Symphony of Destruction
by Laerkstrein
Summary: When Kimbley is released from prison and placed under Archer's supervision by order the Fuhrer, Archer fears the worst. And at the rate things are going, it's only a matter of time before the Crimson Alchemist ruins everything.
1. Farewell to Freedom

**Disclaimer: **The _FullMetal Alchemist _characters used in this fic are the sole property of Hiromu Arakawa. I own nothing, save it be my own plot ideas and original characters.

**Symphony of Destruction**

**Chapter 1: **Farewell To Freedom**  
**

**A/N: **Since Kimbley (Kimblee?) is my favorite character out of the whole FMA series, I thought I should give him his own fanfic. :) And I really liked Archer from the first anime series, so he's in here, too. That's right. I** LIKE** Archer. There. I said... I mean, wrote it. Whatever. My point gets across either way (except that writing isn't nearly as effective as speaking).

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"I can't believe this is happening," Frank Archer scowled as he stared at the letter that lay on his desk. The Lt. Colonel covered his face with his hands, trying to convince himself that, when he opened his eyes, the letter would be gone. Sadly, this was not so, for when Archer did look down at his desk again, that damned letter was still staring him straight in the face. He swore under his breath, taking the paper in his hands as he read through it again.

At first glance, the letter looked to be nothing special. Just a few orders from the Fuhrer, who was currently away on vacation with his wife and son. But once Archer had neared the bottom of the page, he realized what task, aside from his usual military duties, Bradley had assigned him to. Archer was to provide lodgings for the raving psychopath known as the Crimson Alchemist while additional military dorms were under construction. Archer sighed, slamming the letter on his desk. Had Bradley asked him to simply_ find_ lodgings for Kimbley, the officer would have happily complied.

But _this_ was an entirely different matter.

_This is unbelievable,_ Archer thought as he headed down the hallway to the phones, paperwork in hand. _I'm being forced to bring a convicted criminal out of prison and keep him in my house until construction of additional military housing is completed. Oh, yes. This is completely normal._

Tucking the papers under his arm, Archer swiftly dialed the number to the prison, and pressed the phone to his ear. "This is Lt. Colonel Frank Archer," he said into the receiver as the warden picked up the phone on the other end. "The Fuhrer has informed me that the Crimson Alchemist, Zolf J. Kimbley, is to be released under my jurisdiction."

"Yes, sir," the man on the other end replied. "I'll turn him over to you immediately."

Archer rolled his eyes. He really wanted nothing to do with the sadistic alchemist, but he had no choice in the matter. "Have him ready to leave in fifteen minutes."

With that, Archer hung up the phone and headed back to his office. As Archer gathered his paperwork into two separate folders and grabbed his coat, he grimaced, wondering what hell the Crimson Alchemist would so "graciously" bestow upon him. He just hoped he wouldn't attempt to blow up his cat or any of the other animals that had a tendency to wander around the neighborhood at the most ungodly hours of the night. Well, blowing up the neighbor's annoying dog wouldn't be_ that_ bad, he supposed.

Archer sighed as he made his way down the stairs to the ground floor of the building, stopping by the secretary's desk to hand over the documents he'd completed. The stoic officer then turned and headed out the front doors of the building and made his way toward the parking lot to find his vehicle. It would, after all, be much easier to drive the deranged lunatic around, rather than drag him down the street like the dog that he was.

Starting up the car, Archer pulled out onto the street and headed for the prison. As he watched the road, Archer said goodbye to his last few fleeting moments of silence and freedom. For, within a matter of short minutes, he'd be towing the Crimson Alchemist around. And if he absolutely _had_ to drag Kimbley around, Archer decided, it'd be best to put a leash on him. After all, wild dogs like Zolf J. Kimbley needed to be controlled somehow.

As calm and collected as he usually was, Archer was feeling oddly nervous. It had been quite some time since he'd met the alchemist down south, and he wasn't sure how things would go once they met up again. Especially since Kimbley had spent the past two weeks in the prison after his destruction of a large portion of the Southern military headquarters. And being locked in a cell was sure to have driven the alchemist up a wall.

As he neared the prison, Archer felt his stomach drop. Now he believed he understood Bradley's reasons for sticking him with Kimbley. After all, Archer had been the one to make the request that the Crimson Alchemist be absolved of his crimes, but only on the condition that he assist the military in the arrest and destruction of the homunculus Greed and his chimera crew. And something in the pit of his stomach told him that the next few weeks with the Crimson Alchemist was going to be a living hell. Archer knew that, far within the innermost workings of his brilliant mind, Zolf J. Kimbley was going to cause him some kind of trouble. And, more than likely, Archer would end up with some kind of severe emotional trauma.

He just _knew_ it.

The Lt. Colonel pulled into the prison's parking lot and stepped out of the car, dreading his encounter with the alchemist. He showed the guard at the prison gate his military I.D., and stepped inside, where another guard led him to what appeared to be a waiting room. As Archer stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was a man in, what looked to be, a crimson blazer and matching slacks. His hair had been cut short in the front and left long at the nape of his neck, tied into a ponytail with a leather strap.

"Zolf Kimbley," Archer said as he stepped into the room, catching the man's attention. "From this point forward, you're under my jurisdiction. Should you attempt any of the stunts you pulled back in Ishbal, you'll be brought back here for immediate reprimanding. Do I make myself clear?"

Without even a word, the man simply stood up and walked out of the room, brushing Archer's shoulder with his own. "Yeah, yeah," he said, rolling his amber eyes at the officer. "I've already heard what the punishment's gonna be. The Fuhrer was kind enough to inform me himself, just last week. So, you got any idea why the old man stuck me with a tightwad like you?"

Already, Archer was having thoughts about slugging the alchemist. As capable as the man may be, the Lt. Colonel wasn't going to put up with what Kimbley had dished out to Basque Gran in Ishbal. "Don't get smart with me, Alchemist," he said, narrowing his blue eyes. "Lest you forget, you have me to thank for your release. And as far as I'm concerned, you're still an inmate. So keep your mouth shut and get moving."

With a sardonic grin, the dark-haired alchemist shuffled out the doors, Archer close behind. Only moments after the doors closed behind them, a stray dog darted through the parking lot, clearly catching the alchemist's attention. Having noticed Kimbley's excited reaction to the dog, Archer grabbed the alchemist by the hair and began dragging him to the car.

"Don't even think about it, Kimbley," he said curtly, shoving the alchemist toward the vehicle. "Get in, and keep your mouth shut."

_Crazed bastard,_ Archer thought as he climbed into the car. _He's going to give me hell... _

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That's chapter 1 for you. I'm working on chapter 2 right now, since I have nothing better to do at the moment. I hope you enjoyed this. So, please favorite and review. :)


	2. Corks and Cats

**Disclaimer: **The _FullMetal Alchemist _characters used in this fic are the sole property of Hiromu Arakawa. I own nothing, save it be my own plot ideas and original characters.

**Chapter 2: **Corks and Cats**  
**

**A/N: **To better express the story, I'm probably going to be switching viewpoints each chapter or so. The first chapter was mainly focused on Archer, but this chapter is focusing more on Kimbley and his... mischief. :)

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"You've got to be kidding me," Kimbley muttered as Archer unlocked the front door of his home. As soon as the door had opened, Kimbley felt like he was going puke. Everything was just so... organized. He knew immediately that there wasn't going to be any fun of any kind if Archer had his way. "This is where you fucking live? Just shoot me, already."

The doorway split off into the kitchen, to the left, and the living room, if one simply walked straight. A sliding glass door that led to a small backyard stood across the living room from the front door. The carpet was the cleanest thing that the Crimson Alchemist had probably ever seen in his entire life. There was no sign of anyone ever having stepped on the damn thing, much less breathing on it. Despite the alchemist's words, it seemed that Archer had simply ignored him and gone into the kitchen for a drink.

Deciding that he now had free reign of the place, the Crimson Alchemist began wandering around, starting with the hallway to his right. From what he could see, there were only four doors along the hallway. He turned left down the hall and opened a door that led to a bedroom. There wasn't much to be said about the room at all. For all the alchemist could see was a bookshelf, a desk, and a filing cabinet. Kimbley sighed, correctly assuming that this was where the Lt. Colonel took care of paperwork and the like.

The door closed with a soft click as Kimbley moved down the hall to the next door. Behind door number two was a small bathroom with the usual: a shower, a toilet, and a sink, as well as the needed bathroom supplies. Failing to be impressed, once again, he moved on, opening the third door. This time, the alchemist was genuinely shocked at what he saw: a staircase that seemed to lead down into a basement. He shrugged, deciding to investigate the basement later.

"Where the hell am I gonna stay?" Kimbley asked, walking into the kitchen and taking a seat at the small bar that overlooked the kitchen sink. "I'm sure as hell not sleeping on your damned couch."

A sudden rustling from behind the alchemist caught his attention. He turned to see a small gray cat with wide blue eyes sitting on the coffee table in the living room. The cat mewed and tilted its head as it stared at him, blue eyes wide.

"Don't _even_ think about it, Kimbley," he heard Archer say from across the kitchen. "I'm not exactly interested in scraping cat off my walls just so you can have a bit of fun."

The alchemist swore under his breath. "Don't be such a creep," he said, approaching the cat. "I never said I was gonna blow him up. Besides..." The alchemist knelt down in front of the table, scooping the wide-eyed animal into his arms. "I like cats."

Although he couldn't see it, Kimbley knew that Archer was rolling his eyes. "Funny," the officer said. "I find that _very_ hard to believe. Is that what you said about the Ishbalans before you blew them to hell, Crimson?"

"Don't be such a stiff, Archie," the alchemist said with a smirk as he plopped down on the couch with the cat. "Hey, you got any booze around here, or is it all fruit juice?"

Kimbley watched as Archer scowled and began unlocking a cabinet to the left of the refrigerator. "I know I'm going to regret this," the officer muttered, tossing a glass bottle to the alchemist. "Just don't drop any of it. This isn't a bar, you know."

The alchemist rolled his eyes as he tugged at the cork, the cat still on his lap. "Damn thing," he hissed, smacking the bottle with a fist. Kimbley smacked his hands together, triggering the tattoos on his palms. He pressed a hand against the bottle, forcing its contents to swirl around, putting pressure on the cork from the inside. With a very distinct pop, the cork shot across the room and into the sliding glass door, leaving a large web of cracks, as well as a hole, behind.

"Goddammit, Kimbley!" Archer shouted, grabbing the alchemist by the collar as the couch cushion flew out from beneath him. "I told you not to do anything stupid!"

Kimbley shrugged, ignoring the pressure that was being put on his throat. "My bad," he said mockingly, watching the cat scurry across to the other side of the room to clean itself.

With a growl, Archer let the alchemist go, turning instead to inspect the damage that had been done to the door. "Shit," the Crimson Alchemist heard the other man say. "You're _paying_ for the repairs, Alchemist. Every damn cent of it."

"Sure, sure," Kimbley said, following the cat's movements with his amber eyes. "So, what the hell do you do for fun around here?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the cat. "And don't say something stupid like 'reading' or 'paperwork,' because those things are most definitely not fun in the slightest."

"I could drag you down to the basement and hang you," Archer growled, hitting Kimbley over the head with a magazine as he passed by the couch.

Kimbley rolled his eyes. "Screw it," he said, heading to the front door. "I'm going for a walk."

_Stiff bastard,_ the Crimson Alchemist thought bitterly as he headed down the street. _With an attitude like that, I wouldn't be surprised if the bastard's never been laid._

Golden eyes looked up at the sky, which was surprisingly dark considering the time... But then again, Kimbley hadn't even bothered to check the time. He reached into his pocket for the silver State Alchemist's pocket watch. His left hand closed around the cold, metal object, causing the array on his palm to heat up. From the moment he'd become a State Alchemist, Kimbley had known about the red stones that had been hidden within each of the watches. An idea that had been created through the combined efforts of Shou Tucker and the piss-off that Kimbley was forced to room with.

He popped open the watch and glanced at the ticking face. "Just after eight..." he muttered, shoving the watch back into his pocket. "Bastard sure works late... If I have to wait three hours for him to get off work just so I can get a ride back here, I'll just fucking walk."

A sudden hiss caught the alchemist off guard. He stumbled backwards, realizing he'd stepped on a mangy brown cat with battered ears. Once having recovered from the shock, the feline hissed once again before lunging at Kimbley. The alchemist sighed and slapped his hands together, knowing damn well what he was doing. He grabbed the cat as it jumped at him, pressing a palm against it's back before tossing it onto a nearby lawn. The cat hissed once more as it's fur darkened to a charcoal color. In seconds, the hissing died down, and the cat collapsed against the fence before it exploded.

Kimbley frowned as he went to inspect his work. Not much of a sound, but a decent enough mess, he supposed, turning on his heel. It was only about a block back to Archer's, but Kimbley was still rather shocked as to how long said block was. As he neared the house, he simply walked across the lawn, knowing it would piss off the officer, and walked in through the front door.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Archer said from the couch as the alchemist entered. "But what the hell were you thinking, going out like that? Bored, are we?"

The Crimson Alchemist smirked. "Not really. At least... not anymore..." Knowing that Archer was watching him confusedly, the alchemist simply headed toward the basement door, pausing to look at his superior as his hand closed around the doorknob. "By the way," he smirked. "I wasn't kidding about what I said before. I really _do _like cats."

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I wish that fanfiction could be animated on the spot. I'd sure as hell enjoy seeing this made into a short or an extra at the end of an episode. XD


	3. Screw Ups and Secrets

**Disclaimer: **The _FullMetal Alchemist _characters used in this fic are the sole property of Hiromu Arakawa. I own nothing, save it be my own plot ideas and original characters.

**Chapter 3: **Secret**s  
**

**A/N: **Okay... I've gotten messages AND comments about this fic, all of which are greatly appreciated. But there's one little problem: This is **NOT A YAOI**. And it's **NOT A SHOUNEN-AI** either. I don't write, read, or condone those. They are icky to me. So, no more "Yay, Archie/Kim yaoi" comments or messages. Such things will be removed and ignored. This is solely a **HUMOROUS** fanfic that I came up with for my own entertainment. **NOT** for sensual purposes in **ANY** way/shape/or form.

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The next morning was an utter hell as far as Archer was concerned. The very moment he had walked out of the bathroom after a bit of freshening up, part of the daily routine, he had nearly passed out from shock. His usually neat living room was completely and irrevocably littered with glass bottles that had, the previous night, held a wide variety of wines and liquors which were all, by now, passing through a certain someone's digestive tract.

"What the hell did you do?" Archer shouted, storming into the basement to find the alchemist laughing manically on the floor, the neck of a shattered bottle loosely in his tattooed hand. The Lt. Colonel scowled, ice blue eyes attempting to intimidate the now intoxicated "guest."

After several drunken comments, the alchemist's eyes finally came back into play, rolling back to where Archer could actually see them rather than the bloodshot scene that had so kindly greeted him before. As Kimbley made a vain attempt to roll onto his stomach, the alchemist's enraged host took note of the several shattered bottles that lay on the floor across the room. Or rather, what was _left _of the shattered bottles, which indicated that Kimbley had, so sportingly, used a large quantity of the liquor stash for "explosives practice."

Archer jumped as one of the alchemist's hands closed around his ankle. The man's first reaction was to pull away, for fear of losing a limb to a drunken explosives expert, or even give the bastard a good kick in the teeth for good measure. Both of which seemed to be excellent ideas considering the damage that the alchemist had done to Archer's property,_ in addition _to the outraged phone call he'd received at six-thirty regarding the neighbor's charred cat.

_I can't live like this__, _Archer seethed inwardly, pulling his ankle away from the alchemist's pitiful grasp. Choosing to ignore the situation for now, mainly because there was so little time until the work day began, Archer headed back up the stairs, unfortunately taking note of the sickening sound coming from the lunatic's half-open mouth. A sound that could best be described as a man gargling with a massive combination of various alcoholic beverages and saliva.

"You'd better have this cleaned up by the time I get back," the Lt. Colonel muttered before slamming the basement door. "Don't focus on that crazed bastard in the basement," he told himself as he reached into the closet for his uniform. "Ignore him, and everything will..."

A large explosion from the basement, no doubt, shocked Archer out of his self-coaching method, sending him running back down the hall. He placed a hand on the doorknob, only to withdraw when the metal started... sizzling. The distinct scent of smoke and liquor had filled the house, having crept up from the cracks around the basement door. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Archer pulled the door open and headed cautiously back into the basement.

The sickening scent assaulted the man's senses, leaving him to find his way to the floor by using the wall and railing as guides. Finally, the stairs came to an end, sending Archer to the floor. He reached for the place where the final three steps would have been, only to find a gaping hole and severely charred, and alcohol-soaked, wood.

"What's wrong, boss? Can't even make it into your own basement? Sad," the alchemist laughed through the smoke. "If you can't even stay on your feet, then what kind of woman is gonna want _anything _to do with _you_?"

The remark was enough to send Archer's hand to his belt where his gun usually sat. But there was just one little problem: No gun. And who else would go around wreaking havoc, picking up bimbos off the street, and removing firearms from officers' uniforms? None other than the lunatic bastard who had made Archer's house look like a dump and a liquor joint.

"Looking for something?"

Archer turned toward the voice, only to end up with the gun barrel pressed against his forehead. The officer rolled his eyes, knowing damn well that Kimbley had removed the bullets to prevent him from ruining the "fun." Finally giving in to the urges that had so graciously plagued his mind before, Archer gave the alchemist a good kick before grabbing his wrists and slamming him, face first, into the wall just as the gun went off.

The officer scowled, wrenching the firearm away from the laughing lunatic. "You're an idiot!" he shouted, whacking Kimbley with the gun handle for good measure. "I don't give a _damn _what the Fuhrrer has to say about this. Your ass is _out _my door. _Tonight_!"

Golden eyes looked up at Archer with a slight hint of confusion. _Another _sign that the alchemist was hopelessly drunk. Archer rolled his eyes again before kicking Kimbley to the floor.

"You're cleaning this up," he hissed, pointing the firearm at the alchemist. "Even if it _kills _you, you're going to clean everything you screwed up. And I expect it to be _done _before I get back tonight."

Kimbley laughed, clearly not taking anything seriously. "And if I don't?"

"You'll wish _you _were the one rotting down the street by the neighbor's fence."

**# - # - # - # - #**

_This can't be happening to me, _Archer told himself as he walked to his front door. But it was indeed happening. Despite a lengthy protest from the Lt. Colonel, Fuhrer Bradley had _insisted_, or rather ordered, that the Crimson Alchemist continue to room with the now frustrated officer. And to think that he'd been so foolish as to believe that Bradley would _help _him.

Archer was home late, far later than he'd expected, but it couldn't have been helped. His short, yet painful, meeting with the Fuhrer had only lasted all of fifteen minutes, but only _after _a lengthy day of worry and distractions that involved images of what the alchemist could have done to make things worse. The door unlocked with a soft click, opening to reveal the house as perfectly as it had been _before _Kimbley's horrid intrusion.

As if expecting some kind of prank, the officer closed the door slowly behind himself before daring to venture further into what had once been a peaceful place. Upon inspecting all the rooms, save the basement, Archer began to relax. He headed to his room to change out of uniform before so much as considering checking up on the deranged psychopath that was taking up space in the basement. As soon as he had dressed in more comfortable clothing, Archer headed into the basement, only to find it... darker than usual. Under normal circumstances, the alchemist would have kept a light on just to read up on the various kinds of hellish pranks he could pull on his superior. And Archer found it unnerving that the usual wasn't present.

As he headed slowly down the stairs, the light sound of whispering could be heard from the darkness below. A kind of... purposeful hush that was far from normal. But a loud hiss and a smack, Kimbley, no doubt, tore through the almost peaceful atmosphere that had overcome the darkened room. And then there was that _other _sound... The kind that made Archer _very _suspicious.

"Not so hard!" an unfamiliar voice whispered. "You're hurting me!"

Another smack. "Calm down, and do it."

Unfortunately, Archer's eyes had finally grown used to the darkness, just in time to see what looked like Kimbley forcing himself onto a small, blond woman. As unappealing as the scene was, Archer couldn't pull his gaze away from the shaking girl that had been pinned so mercilessly by the insane soldier. A loud scream shot from her lips as the alchemist forced himself upon her again, with far more force than was even necessary.

"Get over here!" the alchemist snapped, turning his head to what appeared to be another girl. "I'm not paying you to sit and watch."

The other woman timidly stood up, only to be grabbed by the alchemist who proceeded to force his mouth against hers with a fierce growl. She shrieked, trying to worm herself away, only to melt in his arms as he began touching her while working himself on the one beneath him.

And that was it. "What the hell is going on in here?" Archer demanded, turning on the light.

There was a shrill scream as the two, clearly, naked women dove under the bed to hide themselves from the "intruder." Kimbley, on the other hand, merely gave his superior a dirty look before throwing a very lacy bra at him. "What the hell are _you _doing here?" the alchemist retorted.

Archer shook the lacy undergarment off of his shoulder before approaching the alchemist to grab him by the hair. "Last I checked, I _live _here," he growled, throwing Kimbley to the floor. "Now get them dressed and out of here!"

"_Someone _needs a little... attention," Kimbley laughed as Archer headed up the stairs.

The basement door slammed hard, sending slight vibrations through the walls as Archer retreated to his room. _Damned bastard! _he swore to himself. As much as he would enjoy murdering the alchemist in his sleep, Archer refrained from the thought, locking the door behind him before collapsing on the bed. _I can't take much more of this... I'll kill the bastard in the morning... _

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Poor Archer. XD I'm so MEAN to him! XD He and Kimbley are my favorites, and yet I'm still causing them both problems. Again, this is **NOT A YAOI OR A SHOUNEN-AI. **If you're looking for those things, look elsewhere, because I'm not going to write such things. Ever. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :) Please review.


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